


Sister Mine

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: Nightsisters [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, GFY, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years with a new family can change many things. How much trouble Ani can find is not one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister Mine

Savage wasn’t too surprised that he couldn’t find Feral for their assigned chores in the fields – that was usual, since his older brother hated fieldwork – but he normally found Feral within a few minutes. It had been almost half an hour now, and no sign of him.

 _Fine_ , he mentally grumbled, stepping over to one of the buildings and closing his eyes. Feral could sometimes be so _difficult_ , insisting they practice using the Force in silly ways like _hiding from his brother_ and making Savage find him the hard way. It took some doing, but the sensation of up and to the right was persistent.

Savage heaved a long sigh, turning and trudging up to the top of the storehouse, grumbling under his breath the whole way. Sure, he could always find Feral when he tried – they were brothers. However, there were times when he really, really wished he had the older Zabrak’s skill so he could just shout mind to mind and let Feral know he was annoyed. Unfortunately, all he’d ever managed to convey was feelings, while Feral could communicate words and whole parts of a conversation when he tried hard.

He found his brother sprawled on his stomach, peering over the roof’s edge at the pump-house. Savage dropped onto his belly and scooched forward, only to slump and give his crazy sib a look. “We were supposed to go into the field over half an hour ago!” he hissed, and Feral waved him off.

“I know,” Feral whispered back, distracted – _fascinated_ – by the teenaged Nightsister working away at the pump. It’d been busted for almost a week now, and Savage had had to do his share of fetching water from the stream, while Feral had mostly helped with the filtering.

Savage sighed and rolled his eyes. Feral might know, but he clearly didn’t care. “And? What’s so neat about a Nightsister?”

“She feels weird. In my head.”

Savage blinked and did a double take. Huh. Maybe there _was_ something to her. He looked back at her, trying to study her with a better eye.

No, she still looked like a funny human to him. He wasn’t sure how old she was – he wasn’t any good at figuring out ages, so “older than him but probably not more than ten years?” was his best guess. She had muscle to her, so she was probably one of the ordinary Sisters from one of the local clans instead of an actual witch. The young woman shifted, tossing her thick brown braid back over her shoulder. Blue eyes, a strong, stubborn face, and making good progress on fixing the pump, if he was seeing right.

“What clan?” he whispered. Even ordinary Sisters could be terrifying, depending on what clan they were. Savage and Feral’s village was allied with several different ones, and one of them was _the_ clan, the original Nightsisters (and why would they need another name if everyone else had taken their name as well?). Mother Talzin had led them for years, now, and that woman had a reputation. Savage believed that it was true, what he’d heard about her being able to make even the wildest, fiercest rancors soil themselves with one single, sideways glare.

He shivered and rubbed a hand among his horns. Mother Talzin was terrifying, and anyone who wasn’t an idiot could admit to that. Even thinking about her made his tattoos itch like they were trying to crawl off his skin, and he wasn’t about to lay any odds if it was her reputation, or an actual curse she’d sent out.

“It’s all right,” Feral murmured, reaching back to pat his shoulder without looking. “She’s Deep Mists. It’s fine.”

Savage tried not to scowl, because once again Feral had _known_ how he’d felt, and that sometimes made Savage feel uncomfortable. Sure, he could _be_ scared, but that didn’t mean he liked showing it.

The Nightsister leaned back, wiping sweat off her forehead and swiping stray hair back in the same motion. The boys froze as she gave a sly sideways look towards them, then a subtle wink. The breath whooshed out of Feral as a voice spoke in their heads. # _You don’t need to sit up there and stare. I don’t bite, and conversation makes things go faster._ #

Savage blinked. “She’s loud,” he said, shocked as he rubbed the side of his head.

“Yeah, she is!” Oh no. Feral was _grinning_ as he bounced to his feet and scampered down the ladder.

Savage sighed and followed after. They were going to be in _so_ much trouble.

* * *

Feral skidded to a halt before the strange Nightsister. She seemed much larger, down on the ground, and it didn’t help that she was maybe a few years older and much taller than him. She was well-muscled, with wide shoulders and a stubborn jaw. Her clothes were scruffy black hand-me-downs, except for the maroon shirt that was grease-blacked at the rolled up sleeves. The severe lines of her face and clothing were countered by the long plait of brown hair, and the kindness in her eyes.

“Hey,” she grunted, bracing one of the taller bits with her hip. “Pass me the third spanner from the left? With the funny bit on the end.”

Savage’s quiet spike of concern meant that Feral tried to play it safe. He picked up the weirdest looking tool and carefully tossed it at the Sister. Both boys froze in alarm as they saw that the tool would fall short. 

The Sister’s outstretched hand turned, palm rotating down and fingers splaying towards the spanner. Green mists coiled from her palm, sweeping out in lean tendrils to curl around the spanner and deposit it into her waiting hand. The brothers looked up, both of them ashen and waiting for a reprimand or worse. Feral resented that Savage was already stepping in front of him, even as he appreciated his brother’s concern, overbearing though it might be. 

The Sister wasn’t even looking at them. “Thanks,” she said, distracted and not sarcastic at all. She did something complex looking, and a moment later turned away from the pump. She flipped the spanner into the air, catching it easily with a wide grin. “I appreciate the – Uh.” Her eyes still had the green undersheen of witchery to them, wisps of mists trailing from her lashes. She sighed, the last of the green fading away. “Look. I’m Deep Mists, and I really don’t bite.”

“You’re a witch,” Savage declared, finishing his move in front of Feral. He lifted his chin, defiant and trying so hard to keep her attention.

She planted her hands on her hips, though Feral noticed she was keeping them well away from the blaster on her thigh and the funny metal tube clipped on the other side of her belt. “Well, yes. And not a jerk. I’m called Ani. What do I call you?”

The brothers shared a look, and Feral took his courage up. “I’m Feral. This is my brother, Savage.” Savage was glaring at him, his mind screaming for Feral to shut up, but –

He had a feeling. He was pretty sure the Nightsister’s presence was a good thing.

She nodded a greeting, then flopped down to lean against the pumphouse. At the way she moved, Feral fixed his guess for her age down a bit, closer to his fourteen Standard. “So how long _has_ this been acting up? Whoever’s been messing up the repairs needs to have some serious training or a massive eye exam.”

Feral started to respond, but Savage put a hand on his arm and kept glaring at the Nightsister. “If you’re a witch, then why ask for our help? You could’ve magicked that over to you no problem.”

Oh. That...that was a good point. Feral bit his lip and took a cautious half step back.

Instead of being offended, the Nightsister rolled her eyes. “There’s a big difference between snagging one thing that’s in your field of view, and picking something out of a lineup you can’t get a good look at. Especially when you’re more concerned about not dropping an entire pumphouse.” She grinned at them, still easy and friendly. “So. You wanna talk, or interrogate me some more?”

It was a nice, and strangely exciting afternoon – especially when the village headman stopped by to find out why the field chores hadn’t been done. Ani was smooth and just a little bit of the right kind of haughty as she informed him that she’d conscripted the two as her assistants. Given she was a Nightsister – and a witch – nevermind that she was the one sent to fix the pump, he let them all be.

That night, Feral dropped down from his bunk to snuggle in with Savage on his. “Do you think she’ll really be back tomorrow?”

Savage gave him the glare he’d tried so hard to mimic from the headman. “The pump’s not fixed yet, so yeah.”

“They could send someone else.”

Savage frowned and pulled back a little. “What’s got this stuck in your teeth?”

“She feels...she feels important. Significant.” Feral gave him a small, awkward grin. “And good. The wind that blows in, clears away the mists and gives us a sunny day.” Savage snorted and gave him a doubtful look, but Feral could see his brother lay awake for a while, a thoughtful expression on his face.

* * *

Savage couldn’t shake Feral’s words the next day. Ani seemed to be determined to actually use them as assistants, so they kept busy. She at least kept them entertained with all sorts of stories. She’d been a Sister for about four years, and before that she’d been to other planets. The brothers listened closely, hanging on to every impossible description of places with strange names like Theed and Coruscant.

It didn’t take Savage long to find a trend, though. Jedi had hurt her, somehow. She just didn’t want to talk about them, and when they did come up this funny look of bitterness and _grief_ would come over her face. After one too many times of that happening, because Feral seemed to find _all_ the wrong questions, Savage butted in. “What’s that?” He pointed at the strange tube at her side, and Ani grinned. Instead of answering, she unclipped it from her belt and flourished it. There was a snap-hiss, and a beam of emerald light hummed to life.

“Oh!” Feral was staring wide-eyed, awe and wonder playing over his face. Savage felt the same way, though his hands itched to trace the humming glow.

Ani saw it, and some strange expression crossed her face. She did something down on the hilt, then carefully held it out towards him. “There. It’s on training mode now. It’ll burn after a while, but at least you won’t lose any fingers.”

He didn’t hesitate, reaching out and carefully poking the lightsaber. The hum changed in pitch as his finger passed into it, and he sucked in a breath. It was warm, warm like fire that was too close and almost burning but not quite, and in the meantime it felt so _strong_ , the vibrations thrumming down into his bones. He pulled his hand back, letting his fingers trail down the edges of the glow, until he was almost touching the hilt. “That’s...amazing,” he managed.

The Nightsister gave him – both of them – a speculative look. “We could use a break.” She grinned, and Savage was already pulling back because he recognized that look. It was the look Feral had like right before they got into trouble for doing something really, really stupid. Ani hopped to her feet. “Tell you what. You two show me someplace quiet, and let’s see if I can’t teach you a few things.”

* * *

Yivrin sighed and trudged the last of the way to Broken Sword, the local Nightbrother village. They were prickly bastards, quietly resenting Nightsister influence for all that they acted quiet and deferential. It was a feat that only Ani could achieve, befriending some of them while fixing...something-or-other, Yivrin didn’t recall what. It wasn’t exactly following tradition, but it meant that the Deep Mists got better trade opportunities with the village, and Ani exercising her skills at machinery maintenance in her spare time was her own choice. 

Most of the time, no one had any cause to complain. The clan had rebounded from the expense in buying Ani’s freedom, and was even reaping some significant benefits from her addition to their group. Ani was an unmitigated powerhouse when it came to magic. The Deep Mists’ status among the clans had risen noticeably in the last few years because of that, and Ani’s penchant for the flashier, more powerful spells didn’t hurt. Ani’s help with more mundane tasks like growing and reaping crops, meant that Deep Mists had more and better produce to trade. She also had a knack for mechanical things – anything from coms to droids – and enjoyed fixing or ‘improving’ anything she could get her hands on. That was more of a mixed blessing, given that Ani was prone to visit the Broken Sword to scavenge bits and parts. In the past year she’d even struck up a friendship with some young Nightbrothers. Several of Ani’s agemates thought it was unseemly, and Ani was reaching the age where sexual attraction could become a factor, but Ani swore she was friends with the Brothers and nothing more. Given how the mists and the Force hummed around Ani when she came running in, late for lessons as always, Yivrin was inclined to believe her. Yivin couldn’t begin to imagine what her little sister was doing, but sex certainly didn’t feel like that in the Force, and if anything, Ani had only seemed drawn towards fellow clan members in the past. So as controversial as Ani slumming with the Nightbrothers was, no one could find any solid reason to protest.

She followed the trails of power that Ani left in her wake as a matter of course back behind the village, then a fair bit away. Not enough that yelling would be out of earshot, but minor shenanigans would be. Yivrin was grumbling under her breath when the Force _sang_ , Nightsister magics curling green mists into the atmosphere with a fine disregard for containment or privacy or – _anything_. Yivrin cursed and broke into a run, letting the Force speed her steps because once she found her little sister she was going to have the mad, reckless _idiot_ cleaning the entire compound with –

She skidded to a sharp halt, gaping and eyes going wide at the travesty before her. One Nightbrother had turned to look at her, eyes wide against his yellow skin and dark tattoos. He had something vaguely like an overlarge lightsaber in hand, though not ignited.

Ani hadn’t spotted her from where she stood near the boy, instead watching another Nightbrother intently.

That last one, thinner and more gangly than his brother, was reaching out to _pet a rancor_. The beast was huge, and obviously wild – its snub snout was scarred and battered without any of the signs of a war harness. Both beast and boy had eyes glowing witch green –

The color of _Nightsister_ magics.

Magics that were kept secret, _sacred_ , and were not to ever, _ever_ be taught to the males of their kind.

“Anakin!” Yivrin snapped, though the sound was near a wail. The rancor twitched, head turning towards her with a snarl. The smaller boy whispered something soft and coaxing, getting the rancor’s attention again, and it settled onto its haunches, allowing itself to be scratched.

Ani turned, expression somewhere between anxious and terrifyingly stubborn. The kind of stubborn that Yivrin had yet to see defeated by anything.

“Oh, no,” the larger Nightbrother groaned softly, stepping between her and the other two. The rancor turned and shuffled off with little concern for the small humanoids near it, eyes still aglow until it was out of sight. It was only when it was out of earshot that the boy’s eyes faded from witch green to a more normal amber.

Ani crossed her arms, giving Yivrin a look. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Nothing _wrong?_ ” It was too near a screech, but Yivrin felt she was allowed to express her upset. “You have taken two Nightbrothers, you have taught them _our_ magic, which in case you might have forgotten is forbidden to them as we go over _every_ single lesson I have given you on the matter!”

“Force techniques to commune with animals aren’t unique to us.” Ani growled right back. “And Feral’s _good_ at magic!” She paused, as if remembering an important point. “And I haven’t taught Savage anything but basic Forcework. No magic at all.”

‘Savage,’ the larger boy, clenched his lightsaber as if it were a staff rather than a sword, which did nothing to reassure Yivrin. Yes, the local Nightbrothers preferred stave-work for self-defense. Treating a weapon with a blade of pure plasma like you thought you could grasp both ends was one of the worst ideas she’d seen lately, though far behind _teaching brothers magic_.

This was – Of all the –

Yivrin slumped back with a frustrated, helpless sigh. “You three, come with me. We are going to speak with Mother Vaala, and so help me, Anakin, you are in so _very_ much trouble!”

* * *

Mother Vaala leaned back in her chair, steepling her hands rather than scrubbing her eyes in exhausted frustration. Yivrin had shared words with her, and the Sister had been in quite a state. Understandable, given the matter at hand.

Ani had been mulishly defensive – also understandable.

The Nightbrothers had remained silent, wide-eyed, and so terrified that she’d finally sent Yivrin and Ani off to see if Kyray’s broken leg could indeed be healed, the way Yivrin had hoped when she’d set out to find Ani to assist.

 _What a mess._ Anakin had been a fascinating challenge from the first, but her bright enthusiasm and deep-seated loyalty had earned her a comfortable place in the clan.

Now, she’d gone and taught a young Nightbrother magic that was forbidden to them.

 _Best start with something less volatile_ , she thought, and she motioned towards the larger Zabrak. “You have a lightsaber.”

The boy only clutched it tighter, as if it were his only lifeline. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Where did you get it?”

“Ani helped me make it.”

 _Of course she did_. That would explain where the crystal had come from. Vaala and– She blinked, then her eyes narrowed. “She provided the crystal as well?” He nodded rather than speaking. While she had to applaud his loyalty, the potential chaos was not amusing.

“It took complicated spell weaving to create Ani’s lightsaber crystal. I do love my daughter, but she does not have the patience or skill to divide her attention enough to create that on her own. Where did you get it?”

At her sharp question, the boy flinched, head bowing as he said nothing. Oh, Ancestors, if Ani had been reckless enough to tamper with advanced spells that she _knew_ she wasn’t proficient with, they might well have avoided becoming a crater by the thinnest of margins.

“I helped her.”

Vaala blinked at the smaller boy – teenager, really – even as the larger one shook his head, a near panicked expression crossing his face. “No, Feral didn’t, I did! Ani and I–”

“Stop!” Feral glared back at his brother, a fierce, if terrified, cast to his features. “I did, I helped with the magic part for all of them and it wasn’t Savage so–”

“ _Quiet_!”

The boys instantly snapped their mouths shut, flinching back from her into the chairs. Vaala glared between the two. Savage lifted his chin in defiance, probably trying to draw her ire on purpose.

She ignored him, looking at Ani’s little magical prodigy. “All of them?” she repeated. “How many crystals does a lightsaber need?”

The boy wilted. “Two for Savage’s,” he whispered, then his voice went even quieter. “One for mine.”

Spirts, Anakin didn’t do anything by halves, did she. “Show me.”

Feral kept his movements slow and deliberate, reaching for his right vambrace. Such were a common enough affection of the local Brothers. In the place where most Brothers – and many Sisters, for that matter – would keep a vibroblade as a backup weapon or utility tool, there was a small lightsaber hilt. One-handed, rather than the two-handed weapon Ani had, and nothing like the oversized monstrosity Savage clung to.

“Show me,” she repeated, voice going a little clipped. The boys gaped at her. Not surprising, given that attacking a Clan Mother was tantamount to a death sentence. Savage in particular was an open book; his expression of earnest panic was quite amusing. No doubt he thought the chances of igniting lightsabers in a Clan Mother’s presence and living to tell the tale was unlikely.

It was a struggle not to roll her eyes. “I will make a holo-note declaring this is what I want, if that would make you feel better. Show me your work, children.”

The boys exchanged fearful looks, then as one they powered the weapons on.

Feral’s weapon was a small thing, a vibrant pale green far more vivid than Ani’s emerald. It was only a little longer than a standard dagger that the Brothers would use, but the boy handled it with an ease of practice – no new toy, this.

As if to compensate for his brother’s scaled down version, Savage’s lightsaber produced blades of light from both ends, creating a staff of humming, deep green plasma. Savage wielded it with care and pride.

“Can you actually fight with that, or are you liable to lop off an arm the first time you go into combat with it?” Vaala couldn’t help asking.

Savage smiled bashfully and gave a shy nod. “I’ve always been good with a staff, and Ani’s been drilling me and we think we have a good style developing!”

Ancestors help her, the boy needed a tail to wag, with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have never heard of such a weapon,” she admitted, wondering if this was nothing more than a flight of fancy.

Feral had already powered down his lightsaber, and a moment later Savage noted the lack of noise and did the same. “Ani says she saw one once, but that’s one of the things that makes her sad, so I don’t know where or what happened.”

Feral nodded. “I think it has to do with her old Master.”

Vaala froze. It was no real surprise that Ani had earned the loyalty and adoring devotion of these two – it seemed to be built upon a mutual respect and a longing for companionship of peers.

Yet the fact that Ani trusted _them_ enough to open up about her past with the Jedi – ghosts and ancestors. It had taken over two years for her to trust Vaala enough to come one long, tear-soaked night to talk, and talk, and talk, and spill the painful details about her past. From the old familiarity the boys showed, this information wasn’t new to them.

Two children, not much younger than Ani herself. One who sounded like a competent warrior wielding a weapon that Ani had no proficiency for, that she had seen only once.

One who seemed to take to Nightsister magics like a fish to water, and was powerful enough that he and Ani could thrice over create lightsaber crystals from the mists, coaxing the magics and power of Dathomir into a solid construct, an actual crystal that resonated with the Force. Vaala and Yivrin had barely managed to do it once, and it had left them nigh useless for a week – longer, on Yivrin’s part.

 _Power calls to power_ , a part of the Clanmother’s mind whispered, and she once again had to wonder if she had indeed made the right decision in bringing Ani into the Clan. For what else would come to them, drawn to the power that Ani contained?

She took several deep, calming breaths. Ani was family, and her loyalties were to the clan. They had adopted her through magics, and solidified that loyalty with their own, through trust and affection and the hard work that any family required.

One did not abandon family. Clan was important.

Anakin could be an unbelievable, complicated pain in the ass.

She gave in and scrubbed her palms over her eyes. When she lowered her hands, the boys were watching her fearfully, and it was obvious how they thought their sentence was on hand.

It was, in a sense, but not the way they would expect.

Mother Vaala sighed. “You three have put us into quite the corner, children. Anakin has done the forbidden, and you two have participated – and _you_ knew better. You are Dathomir-born.”

Feral ducked his head, shoulders hunching as he stared away. Shame and frustration boiled in him, the mental feel of one who had found something they did not even know to long for. Savage drew himself up, defiant as he leaned towards his brother – to be in front of his brother.

 _Ani, how the blazes did you find two such as these and bind them to you, with neither spells nor intention?_ She steepled her hands and frowned at the two. “The point in our favor is that it has been years since the Deep Mists have chosen a Nightbrother from your village.” The boys glanced at each other, a mix of hope and uncertainty – well-laced with terror – building in them. “Nothing says we must requisition a male for the purposes of reproduction. It will be bending the traditions and laws until they scream, but it will not _break_ them.”

“Feral,” Savage declared immediately.

“Brother!” Feral hissed, glaring at him. “You can’t just make that decision for me!”

“No, you cannot,” Vaala said, recapturing their attention. “And it still only solves half the problem.”

Again, Savage gave her the stubborn little chin lift. She ignored it. “The only solution I see – though if either of you have any grand ideas, I would love to hear them – is adoption.”

Feral’s mouth dropped open. “You mean like what happened with Ani? That would work for us?”

Dear gods, Ani had shared even that? “You already have Dathomir in your blood. If either of you wished to be adopted, it would not require some of the greater magics. You would, however, have to abandon your identity as a Nightbrother, and become a Nightsister.”

Savage frowned, looking immensely puzzled. “You can do that?”

Vaala tried not to smile too much. “Well, it’s not often done, if for no other reason than anyone who wanted a different status would try it. It requires actually embracing the change, and if it is necessary, then we can undergo the ritual.”

Savage was chewing on his lip as he looked over at his brother, and the Force hummed between them. Savage frowned more and more, glaring at his brother.

Feral finally spoke, voice small and more like it was meant as a response to something between them, than a response to her. “I...would actually _like_ to do that.” He glanced over at Vaala and shrugged a little. “I mean, it’s my fault, and I was the one learning Nightsister magics to begin with and it’s not like I’m any good at Nightbrother things in the second place and I don’t think I’d need you to waste your magic since I don’t want to do that unless I’m really really sure and I’m not yet but – ”

Mother Vaala held up a hand, quietly grateful that it stopped the flow of words. “Then let us see what we can connive together, children.”

* * *

Ani tried to not fret or sulk as she followed Yivrin’s lead, weaving Force magics around Kyray’s leg. She dutifully followed the pattern Yivrin’s magics set, lending power to speed and strengthen the healing process. Ani didn’t really have any aptitude for healing, but she had plenty of power to spare, and augmenting the skills of others was a simple spell.

Yivrin sat back, looking over their work as the green cleared from the air. “There. It’ll still be weak for a few days, so keep the gymnastics to a minimum.” She glared at Kyray, who was the clan weaponsmaster. “If I see you with anything like this again in the next month, I’m letting it heal the normal way and I’ll be greatly tempted to break the other leg just to make a point.”

“Promises, promises,” Kyray laughed. She didn’t move, though. Instead she looked between the two and sighed. “I know it’s none of my business –”

Yivrin’s glare intensified. “How come whenever someone makes that kind of statement, they immediately try to _make_ it their business?”

Kyray ignored her. “But whatever it is between you two, it’s ugly to see and I hope you patch it up quickly.” Verbal blow delivered, Kyray slipped off the table and ducked out while Ani and Yivrin were sharing a disgruntled look. The silence stretched out beyond uncomfortable, until Ani sighed.

“Feral’s _good_ at magic. He’s better than I am.”

Yivrin snorted. “Half the time I’d say a common rancor would be better than you are. You’ve power, but –” She stopped, and Ani winced as apparently the math became a bit obvious. The older Nightsister facepalmed. “Ancestors. Ani?”

She stared down at the floor. Hard. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been improving finally over the last six months.”

“Yeah.”

“How much of it is the Nightbrother’s fault?”

“ _Feral_ ,” she growled, though she didn’t look up. “He has a name, and it’s _Feral_.”

Yivrin sighed. “I will never understand Nightbrother naming conventions. _Fine_. How much of your progress has been Feral’s fault?”

She squirmed. “He understands things a lot better than I do, and he’s figured out how to explain them so I get it. It’s not that you’re a bad teacher, I just think there’s a bunch of ‘things Nightsisters learn’ that I never got and I didn’t mean to teach him I just...couldn’t get it, and we were talking, and he _did_.”

“Oh, ancestors.” Ani dared to look up, and Yivrin was shaking her head. “Only you could _inadvertently_ teach a Nightbrother forbidden magics.”

Mother Vaala swept in, saving Ani from trying to find a response. Both Sisters straightened, and Ani blinked. Savage wasn’t present, but Feral was walking a bit tentatively behind her – dressed like a Nightsister.

“What the- ?”

Feral grinned at her, and Ani shook her head, standing up and giving Mother Vaala a look of deep suspicion and utter confusion. “Er, I mean, Mother? What’s...going on?” Yivrin sat back with a resigned sigh, an expression of faint amusement spreading over her face.

Mother Vaala smiled at her. “Daughter, I have been thinking around corners since before you were born. Yivrin, do you object to another student?”

Yivrin’s smile was a bit too innocent for Ani’s comfort. “Not if she’s half as talented as Ani claims.”

Feral blushed, and Ani tried to bite back a whoop. It was...strange, really, because she could see how this was like her adoption into the clan – less...extreme, but no less a significant change. Still, the notion of Feral as a Sister – which h– _she_ would not have done without Savage somehow getting claimed by the clan as well – appealed to her.

Keeping a solemn face became a lot easier as Mother Vaala gave her the considering, slow look that meant doom. “Speaking of. Daughter, you and I must discuss a few things.”

Ani gulped, then stood, sending Feral a brave – and somewhat fake – smile. “Punishment?”

“Punishment.”

* * *

Ani stumbled into the room she now shared with Feral and Savage, flopping facedown onto her bunk with a muted “Argh!”

She could hear Feral turn away from the terminal, then a faint snicker. “What was it today?”

Ani snorted. “If I’d known teaching you to mind meld with a rancor would end like this, I’d never have asked for help.”

Feral laughed. “Yes, you would. You’d have risked it because you don’t bother learning half the lessons without someone translating for you.”

“S’not my fault Yivrin speaks in gibberish.” She shoved herself up and glared at her sister. “Mother spent the whole day working with me. She sat me down and we were reading years – _years_ of data about clan harvest. _Harvests!_ Goooooooods.” She flopped back down, rolling onto her back and draping an arm over her eyes. “I get I bent – broke – some rules, but this is ridiculous. The punishment just. Keeps. _Going_.” The sudden silence, the funny hesitation from Feral had Ani moving her arm enough to give her sister a look. “What? What’s wrong?”

“...I...don’t think it’s punishment anymore.”

Ani sat up, not trying to hide her bewilderment. “You know the drill by now. Small words, please? Bitty concepts?”

Feral glared and threw a datapad stylus at her. “ _Stop_ acting like you’re stupid, so help me!”

“If I wasn’t, I’d have this, right?” She shrugged. “If it’s not mechanicals, I just –”

Feral snarled. “I will _stab_ the first Jedi I run into if you keep shoveling that banthashit they fed you. Shut. UP!”

Ani shut up and pulled back a little, not sure what to make of the fact that she couldn’t tell how serious Feral was.

After a moment more of a glare, Feral sighed. “I think the first two months were more punishment. One for me, one for Savage. This last month...Ani, I know you think data-crunching and clan histories are boring, but don’t you see the trend?”

She sat on the first dozen answers which were likely to get more yelling. “No?”

Feral started to tick points off on her fingers, ignoring a smelly Savage ambling in from more weapons practice. “Harvests. Production. Income. Who has what skills. Historical trends of illness and birthrates. Ties to other clans, both Sisters and Brothers.”

 _They’re all boring as hell?_ Ani somehow suspected that wasn’t the answer Feral was looking for. Savage was glancing between the two of them, hesitating before sitting down on his bunk.

“What about Ani being Heir?”

Ani blinked and slowly turned to stare at Savage. He looked right back at her, wearing that uncertain little expression he got when he stated something he thought was blindingly obvious but since no one else seemed to recognize it, he was now doubting himself. “What? Did Mother finally make it official?”

Feral was giggling helplessly into her palms. Ani just kept staring. “How–” she started, but that wasn’t quite right. “ _Why_? What the hells have you heard?”

He shrugged, eyes darting around as if searching for the holorecorder taping his reactions, since this couldn’t be a legitimate question. “Well, not _heard_ , really. Just...You know.” At the continued glare, he shifted about. “You don’t know? It’s– I’ve heard Yivrin. She loves teaching Feral. I heard her complaining to one of the Sisters that only you would be crazy enough to do what you did, and it would’ve been criminal to leave Feral’s talents to rot.” From the blush turning Feral maroon, it was apparently the first _she’d_ heard of it. “And...well.” Savage blushed down at his feet. “Kyray says I’m not too shabby, either,” he mumbled.

“Of course you’re not shabby,” Feral declared, patting his broadening shoulders. “But that _is_ the point.” She glared at Ani. “You...you _see_ things differently. It’s not just that you have the power to extinguish suns.”

“Oh shut up!”

Feral, no surprise, ignored her. “You fought for me. For us. You’d be a very good guardian of others – like the whole clan. If that’s not Clanmother material, what is?”

Ani shook her head, glaring away. “I’m _not_.” She could hear Savage get up, and she tried half-heartedly to push him away as he sat down next to her. “Shove off. You’re gross and fresh from weapons practice.”

No surprise, he ignored her. “You love us. You look out for us. You’ll protect us. If that’s not a Clanmother, then I want whatever it is you are to lead.”

Feral settled on the other side of her. “And if nothing else, if Mother Vaala hasn’t made it official yet, then we can all ignore it, and go about as if everything is normal, right?”

“You’re both stupid _and_ insane,” Ani grumbled, but she started to smile. It felt...gods, it shouldn’t feel this good. Yet sitting between her sibs, she wanted to believe. Together they could probably handle anything, and if not, well, that was what the rest of the clan was there for.


End file.
